One of us
by BrandNewOrange
Summary: Full title: one of us sings and one of us drinks and one of us has nothing at all AU oneshot, in which Kakuzu owns a bar. These are his thoughts one night as he gets ready for business.


I don't think it's any secret that my favourite Naruto character is Suigetsu. And I think/hope it's obvious from my stories I'm also a big fan of Sasori and Deidara. But I don't think it often shows how much I like Kakuzu. I don't even know why I like his character. I just think he's a bit top. Anyway, earlier today I was listening to the new "fun." album, and the song "barlights" stood out to me. I got an idea for a story with Kakuzu in it. The title of this story is lyrics from the song. It's not the best thing I've done, but I still hope people enjoy this.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Naruto, the Akatsuki, or the song barlights.

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Kakuzu leant back against the counter. His tanned hand reached up and pushed a strand of dark hair away from his face. It was warm this evening. Before him, his small bar lay, its two other occupants not paying any attention from him. The night was young yet, and he knew his business would pick up.

The bar was Kakuzu's life. Running it had always given the old man a thrill. It was only a small place, in a small building. It wasn't even in the heart of the city. But it drew enough customers to keep it afloat. The tanned man loved business and money. Over the years the barman had learned the names of most of his customers. He had a small and steady group of regulars. The two who were in the bar right now were part of that group.

He smiled, as he dried off glasses for the evening, watching the first of these two. This man didn't drink himself, but he was a musician. His friends came to the bar and naturally he followed. Kakuzu often laughed as the young man had ordered "juice, yeah, just juice, un," while all those with him grew steadily more intoxicated. His name was Deidara, and to look at him he wouldn't look old enough to even set foot in the bar. The first time he'd actually been here he wasn't old enough, but Kakuzu had let it slide that once.

He reluctantly admitted to himself that it was the young one's appearance. He had the most wonderful head of long blonde hair, that shone even in the dank depths of the bar. Deidara's cobalt blue eyes glittered through the darkness around him. And as many before him had done, Kakuzu had mistaken the boy for a young woman. Deidara had let it slide that once.

After learning his mistake, the tanned bar owner had the privilege of hearing the young man's voice. He'd been singing in the bathroom at the same time Kakuzu himself had gone to visit it. Although the man wasn't the best singer in the world, he certainly had a lot of talent. Since that day, Kakuzu had regularly allowed Deidara to perform at the bar.

Tonight would be one of those evenings. Deidara was currently sat on the makeshift stage, an old beer crate, tuning his aging guitar. He appeared to be talking to someone in a loving, affectionate way, and when he looked harder, Kakuzu could just make out the phone tucked between Deidara's cheek and shoulder. Gently placing a glass onto a shelf, Kakuzu realised he must be talking to his boyfriend.

Kakuzu walked around to the front of the bar and pulled up a stool next to his other customer. Slumped across the bar, already inebriated, lay Kakuzu's best customer. He was also arguably the tanned man's best friend. The point was debateable as the pair of them didn't exactly get on all that well. They merely tolerated each other's presence, each providing the other with what they needed.

The man used to be a priest. His name was Hidan, but he'd had some oddball spiritual epiphany and given up the church. Nowadays he spent most of his time in the bar, drinking his life away and claiming to be immortal. Kakuzu had mocked this, hell he was an old guy himself, despite not looking as old as he actually was, but even he knew he wasn't immortal. Hidan had smooth shoulder length white hair and unusual lilac eyes that always intrigued Kakuzu. The barkeeper's own eyes were a vivid emerald colour that many others commented on.

It seemed Hidan's drink of choice for the day was vodka. Earlier on that day Kakuzu had frowned at him, asking if he ever ate or drank anything decent. He didn't really mind that much, he got money out of Hidan's habit. However, he had wanted to hear the ex-holy man's reply. True to form Hidan had a snappy comeback.

"Course I drink properly you shitty old bastard. I've had two screwdrivers already, plus that cranberry and vodka. If you add that lovely sparkling pear juice to my next measure I'll be well on my way to five a day, ass"

The tanned barman leant back on the stool and glanced at the clock. Hanging above the door, the clock was old, bleached through years of exposure to the bar lights. It was only ever removed from its position once a year, if that, when Kakuzu replaced its cheap, budget brand batteries. The age of the object combined with its power supply caused the clock to run nine minutes slow. Any other person would have corrected or replaced the timepiece by now. It was a mark of Kakuzu's miserly spirit that kept the thing running. It was still a little early for them to get anymore customers.

However, the tanned man seemed to have a heart that evening. Leaning back further, he grabbed a bottle from behind the counter, popping it open and sliding it in front of Hidan. He'd have done the same for Deidara, but he knew that the boy would never drink it.

"Kakuzu, you retarded fuck, I never asked for that so I'm not paying," Hidan glowered at him. Kakuzu sneered back at him.

"Shut up and drink it, it's on the house," he grunted his reply. Hidan shook his head but gulped down the bottle anyway. Kakuzu folded his arms over his chest and ignored the peculiar man. When he first opened the bar, he'd often lost his temper with Hidan back-chatting him all the time. It often ended violently, Kakuzu bodily ejecting the other male from the premises, both of them sporting new scars and bruises. But the ex-priest still kept coming back. He was persistent, Kakuzu gave him that. Nowadays they'd still lose their tempers with each other, but the blows stopped at words.

Deidara looked up momentarily from his tuning and beamed at them. He'd obviously finished on the phone now.

"Man, I hope more people come to see me than last week, yeah," he spoke just loud enough for the barman to hear him. Brushing his long fringe of blonde from his eyes, he resumed his previous activities. Kakuzu stood up from his seat and walked back around behind the bar, he needed to count the float in the till before anyone else arrived.

"You and me both kid, you and me both," he muttered under his breath. He idly flicked coppers into the drawers of the till and something caught his eye. It was the letter. He shoved it further behind the other objects on the counter top, not wanting to acknowledge it now.

The bar was going to close soon. The street was being bought out, sold off to make luxury apartments for the new businessmen and women of the day. Unable to renew his lease on the bar, Kakuzu had been forced to sell his home, the apartment above the bar. He would soon be moving away. It seemed everyone had a price these days, and the tanned man was no exception.

Deidara's soft tones began to meet his ears. The boy was warming up his voice for his performance. Eventually the kid would get signed. He'd do anything for his art, playing any show he could. Not to mention his boyfriend would drive him anywhere in the country if he asked, increasing his chances of being noticed. It wasn't even worth mentioning the kid had talent. Yeah, talent and good looks in bucket loads.

Hidan slammed his bottle on the counter. Hidan had experienced religion. Hidan had experienced alcohol. He would always have those two constants in his life. It wouldn't be hard for the zealot to obtain his booze. This wasn't the only bar in town, and liquor stores were a dime a dozen nowadays.

Kakuzu, though he was loathe to admit it, was old. He was past his prime now, and once the bar shut he didn't know what he would do with himself. He'd always had his bar, never needing anything else. He was at an age where even if he could learn something new, he was too stubborn to do so. He'd never be able to start a new business or find a new bar. The door to the bar opened with a long creak, and closed with a soft click. People were arriving to drink, and it was with a sad realisation he knew. Once the bar was gone, he'd have nothing at all.


End file.
